


blackout

by healysbian



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, The 1975 (Band)
Genre: Diabetes, Groping, M/M, Sleepovers, booty shorts, stop bullying adam 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 21:26:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18213842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/healysbian/pseuds/healysbian
Summary: "Jesus Christ," Matty leans over to pick up his phone. He can definitely feel eyes on his ass."You should wear those shorts more often.""Yeah, if I want to get arrested for indecent exposure.""I mean, not if you don't wear them outside..."Or: There's a sleepover, the power goes out, and Timothée likes Matty's short shorts.





	blackout

**Author's Note:**

> i had a sleepover with my friends and the power went out so i wrote this. 100% inspired by [With The Lights Off](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4862669) by [nikkiRA](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikkiRA/pseuds/nikkiRA) (the power outage and the short shorts are totally her idea). someone take my rights away

"The power went out," George says dumbly.

  
"Yeah, no shit," Matty can see George blinking in the dim light of his phone, not paying attention to their conversation or the movie previously playing on his laptop. He ignores Matty and continues playing Minecraft Pocket Edition. "What do we do?"

  
There's a shuffling noise from the couch. Adam turns on his phone flashlight and turns it right towards Matty's face, burning into his retinas like it's the fucking sun. Matty turns away and blinks rapidly. Jesus Christ. "Dunno," George mumbles.

  
"The A/C turned off," Timothée comments, leaning against Matty in their weird shared blanket tent. "Someone get, like, a battery powered fan." His face smashes into Matty's bony shoulder and Matty can smell his peach-scented shampoo since his head is so close, which is like, _yeah_ , but it doesn't really help with the lack of air conditioning and the humid temperatures coming from the summer storm.

  
Timothée's really warm. It's pleasant, except Matty can already feel himself sweating and getting hotter, so he wriggles out of the blanket and stands up. He vaguely remembers George having one shoved somewhere in his dumpster of a bedroom, several years ago when Matty climbed under George's bed to find a Luigi plush that got thrown underneath and ended up performing an excavation. Pickaxes and everything. "George has one in his room, I'm gonna find it."

  
"I do?" George looks confused.

  
"George's room is basically Extreme Hoarders IRL," Adam comments.

  
"Did you just say _IRL_ irl?" Ross sounds appropriately disgusted.

  
"Yeah, I did."

  
Ross and Adam immediately begin squabbling while George and Timothée attempt to butt in to make a neglected comment. Matty's become accustomed to them arguing over everything, even that Tweet that said Vans always land upwards when you throw them ("Do they land upwards when you throw them at Ross's head?"); it's almost exhausting until he realizes how entertaining it is. It's like a freaking TV show.

  
Matty leaves the room without anyone noticing him over the loud voices drifting down the hall and barges into George's room. He takes off his sweatpants, the only pair of pants he brought because he can probably go a week wearing the same thing, and begins digging through George's drawer for a pair of shorts so his legs won't be a waterfall. He finds a random pair of black running shorts that look fine in the dim light of the streetlight filtering through the halfway-closed blinds and pulls them on without thinking—he doesn't even care at this point, he just needs his sweaty thighs to stop chafing—and feels around under George's bed until he finds a dusty box that seems big enough for a fan.

  
Five minutes later, he returns to the living room where Adam and Ross are still arguing, somehow moving onto the existence of a third Property Brother and frantically scrolling through Google images for evidence. George looks up, pointing his phone flashlight at Matty and breaks into a barely-contained grin. "Dude."

  
"What."

  
"Those are my _sister's_." Matty looks at the shorts he's wearing, and _holy fuck_ , he didn't realize how short they were. He thinks they're nearly showing his asscheeks at this point.

  
"Then why were they in your fucking drawer?"

  
George responds by laughing obnoxiously. Matty sighs and returns to his spot next to Timothée. Timothée takes one look at his exposed legs for a few seconds and clamps a hand down on Matty's thigh. Maybe jokingly, or not. He's cracking up. "Nice shorts," Timothée says, looking straight at Matty, sort of smirking. Well.

  
At least the air between his legs feels nice.

  
"Hey sweetcheeks," Ross calls, and he must have seen Matty's butt or something a few seconds ago because he's giggling with Adam too, George's dog in his lap. "Get us the ice cream before it melts." Matty does not want to get up, but George keeps Moose Tracks ice cream in his freezer despite his raging diabetes, and Matty would have sex with Moose Tracks ice cream if it was a person.

  
Matty stands and walks slowly, just for show, into the dark kitchen with his phone's flashlight on. Timothée trails behind him. "I'm going to get some ice cream too," he explains, and follows Matty, hands sliding against the wall.

  
Because he has the best luck, before he reaches the freezer Matty stubs his toe on the island and drops his phone. The light from the flashlight goes directly into his eyes, making him squeeze his eyes shut for a second. "Jesus Christ," Matty leans over to pick up his phone. He can definitely feel eyes on his ass.

  
"You should wear those shorts more often."

  
"Yeah, if I want to get arrested for indecent exposure."

  
"I mean, not if you don't wear them outside..."

  
"Idiot," Matty mumbles as Timothée snorts and grabs Matty's hips. The fabric of his embarrassingly short shorts crinkles, and Matty can sort of see Timothée trying not to laugh in the dim light coming from behind them.

  
"No, it's just that," Timothée's actually laughing now, stifled. "I didn't realize that you had such a nice ass."

  
"Thanks, it was my secret. You do too," Matty says, and now he really wants to kiss Timothée even though he's nearly being groped and Ross is going to kill him for taking so long, so he puts a hand on Timothée's jaw. The hands on his sides tighten.

  
Before he can even move, the lights stutter back on and a cabinet slams behind them. Matty turns around to see George standing a few feet away clutching a power blender.

  
"What the _crap_?" George screams.

  
"Um," Timothée says. The appalled look on George's face is so funny that Matty just says, "Want to join?" Timothée groans and puts his face in Matty's shoulder.

  
"What are you doing?"

  
"What are _you_ doing?"

  
"Making a smoothie!" George practically yells. "Adam got the power back on and we were hungry! I have diabetes so my insulin levels are low!"

  
Ross enters the room, probably looking for his carton of ice cream, and takes one look at the three crowded near the freezer. "What the fuck?"

  
Timothée detaches his hands from Matty's hips to move away. Matty's kind of disappointed. "We got distracted."

  
"At least they weren't masturbating." Ross says.

  
Matty busts out laughing and Ross shortly follows, but George only puts down the blender and trudges back into the living room. "I think we broke him," Timothée says quietly.

  
"Yeah, I think we did."


End file.
